


Give into another vice

by SpooKyra



Category: Persona 5
Genre: Anal Sex, Bottom Persona 5 Protagonist, Dirty Talk, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, S&M, Top Akechi Goro, actual therapy: risk of your therapist becoming god, but not That cog akechi, getting dicked down by a cognition of your murderer/crush: free
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-30
Updated: 2020-12-30
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:21:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28434567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpooKyra/pseuds/SpooKyra
Summary: After the events in the interrogation room, Akira finds solace within his interrogator. Literally.
Relationships: Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira, Akechi Goro/Persona 5 Protagonist, Cognitive Akechi Goro/Kurusu Akira
Kudos: 107





	Give into another vice

**Author's Note:**

> Title taken from Whims of Fate

It takes a few meetings of casually dropping information about their complicated relationship for the cognition within Sae to take shape to Akira’s liking. 

Several sessions of confiding in her after sleepless nights; nights spent back in the interrogation room, always waking up just as the sharp prick of a needle touches his neck. He went to her on a whim, needing an outlet that he can trust not to pass on his moments of weakness to the others. It’s not that he doesn’t trust the other thieves, but they wouldn’t understand the way Sae would, having actually witnessed what he’d gone through. He wasn’t cruel enough to crush their vision of their strong, unwavering leader, or their celebrations for having outsmarted Akechi. He just can’t. 

Sae had been surprised to see him, but was quick to offer assistance of any kind. After he’d spilled some of his heart, curiosity had him checking the Nav, and lo and behold, her palace was still there. He bypassed the casino entirely, instead making a beeline for the police station and going underground. Morbid curiosity had him checking the interrogation room and seeing his own corpse didn’t bother him as much as he wished it would. He had no ulterior motives going in, but that quickly changed when he came across a snarling but tied up Goro Akechi on his way out. 

He briefly remembered Futaba talking about the possibilities of a cognitive Akechi giving away the part of their plan involving the metaverse, but his mind was too busy trying to process everything to give it much thought. It shouldn’t have surprised him—given that Sae was present when they debriefed their situation—that her cognition of Akechi changed so drastically so quickly. Interesting. 

And if the sight of Akechi, seething at him, hands twitching as if he wanted to throttle Akira, turned him on immensely—well, no one would know but him. He left him there, then he exited her palace with a newfound determination and a hypothesis to test. 

The first times did not go well for him. Untying Akechi had been a terrible mistake that ended in several Goho-M’s wasted (in which he had to spend time making more to avoid any questions). So maybe he had emphasized too much how ruthless Akechi actually was; but he can’t really complain, seeing as how the  _ real _ Akechi was off limits due to Akira being dead. He’d have to make due with what he had. He started dropping small tidbits of their outings in his makeshift therapy sessions with Sae, watching in real time how her cognition of him changed with each new piece of information. 

It was the mention of their duel in Mementos that tipped the scale just right where Akechi still seemed to want to kill him, but was also equally likely to fuck him senseless instead. 

His friends would probably call it insanity; Akira calls it coping. It’s not that he  _ wants _ Akechi to kill him, but he’ll admit that he feels robbed in a way. There’s a certain intimacy that he missed out on when Akechi showed his true colors and put a gun against his head and—okay maybe he is a little insane. That fact certainly doesn’t stop him from getting on his knees in front of the cognition.

Akechi sneers and puts his pistol against his forehead but keeps his finger off the trigger. That’s a good sign, he thinks,  _ or is it really? _ He can’t deny that the idea of the added thrill has his heart fluttering. 

“Back for more already?” Akechi asks in his condescending-yet-still-polite tone.

Akira gets right to business, unbuttoning his uniform enough to get access to his pants before pulling him out. He strokes him to hardness, giving a few tentative licks, before taking him in his mouth. He hums contently when Akechi’s free hand grips his hair and forces him to bob his head. As nice as it had been hearing Akechi coo at him, calling him special and whatnot, Akira  _ wants  _ to be hurt. Luckily for him, this Akechi seems to want the exact same thing.

He moans around his cock at a particularly sharp tug on his hair. The barrel of the gun digs into his skin, the combined pain sending a shiver down his spine. He keeps his mouth as pliant as possible, letting Akechi use him however he wants and instead focuses on trying not to gag. Akira still chokes when Akechi slams his head down without warning, and he looks up to see Akechi transfixed by his expanded throat. He can’t hold back bringing a hand down to palm himself. 

“Are you so depraved to get off from being choked by a cock?” Akechi almost sounds bored, which is kind of a turn off, but whatever, he can work with this. 

Akira manages to pull off, coughing before finding his voice again. “Only yours,” he rasps. He hears Akechi click his tongue at him before obediently opening his mouth again. He’s a little more prepared this time when Akechi fucks into his throat, and he triumphs over the soft groan he elicits.

“ _ Fuck _ , Akira,” he hisses. “You’re far too used to this,” he says, as if Akira hasn’t been doing this for almost a week now. “I bet if I bent you over I’d find your other hole just as loose.”

_ Why don’t you find out for yourself _ , is what he’d say if his mouth wasn’t occupied, instead he moans shamelessly. 

“Fucking whore,” Akechi spits out and holds his head flush against him. He doesn’t let up, shallowly thrusting his hips, until Akira is clawing at his thighs. “God, the sounds you make choking on my cock. Absolutely filthy.”

Akira gasps for air as Akechi’s movements become more erratic. At some point the gun must have disappeared, as Akechi’s hand wraps around his throat and squeezes lightly. Black spots fill his vision and Akira idly wonders if this is how he’ll die, alone in a palace choked to death by his rival’s cock. God, it’s a miracle he hasn’t come yet.

All too suddenly, Akechi yanks him off, throwing him to the ground and kicking his stomach before he has a chance to get up. “Strip,” he commands, waiting impatiently for him to recover from a coughing fit. Once Akira has his blazer and turtleneck off, he yanks Akira’s pants and boxers off, spreading his legs and immediately thrusting a finger in him.

Akira can’t help but grin when he hears Akechi’s breath hitch from feeling how wet and loose he already is. 

“Did you seriously come prepared?” Akechi asks in disbelief. He adds another finger, experimentally curls them before stretching them out fully. “Or have you already been fucked? Tell me how many cocks have been shoved up this hole today.” He brutally drives his fingers in and out, glaring at him.

_ Is he…? _ “Are you— _ ah!—jealous _ , detective?” Akira half teases, half genuinely questions.

Akechi scowls, slips a third finger and aims for his prostate, causing Akira to mewl. “You think far too highly of yourself.” He pulls his fingers out and grabs his hips. “Not that it matters. You won’t get anything better than me.”

“Wait! Your clothes,” Akira gasps out.

“What about them?” He plays dumb on purpose, like the asshole (Akira loves) he is.

“Off—take them off.” When Akechi raises an eyebrow he adds, “Please.” He’s given a stare that screams  _ is that the best you can do? _ And at this point, Akira is not above begging. “ _ Please _ take them off! I want—no,  _ need _ to see and touch you,” he begs.

“You want them off so badly? Do it yourself.” Akechi scoffs but steps back and waits. 

Akira almost throws himself at him in his hurry to finally get his hands on him. He slips his coat off his shoulders, lingering on his arms. Akira thanks every god he knows that Sae is aware of Akechi’s bouldering hobby. He stops ogling his body and focuses on stripping the rest of his clothes off when Akechi clears his throat. Akechi steps out of his pants before shoving him down to the ground again, picking up and maneuvering his hips like he weighs nothing.  _ Fuck,  _ Akira’s never been so turned on from being manhandled. He desperately hopes that his grip will leave bruises. 

He has Akira on his back when he climbs on top and pins him down, his cock dragging wetly against his leg. “You’re so pathetic, running to your murderer for cock. Are you really so much of a whore to not be satisfied by the half of Tokyo you’ve charmed?” 

“I’m— _shit!_ ” He cuts himself off with a wail when Akechi bites down on his neck. “ _Yours_ _only_ ,” Akira insists, struggling minutely because _holy shit if Akechi doesn’t fuck him already he’s gonna lose his mind._ Akechi growls against his skin, and he moves to a different spot and breaks the skin, the sharp pain causing his hips to jerk and grind against him. At last, Akechi’s patience runs out after marking up half his neck and he finally— _finally_ lifts Akira’s legs up and aligns his cock and pushes inside. It’s so _hot_ and he feels so _full_ , the real ( _but is it really?_ ) thing incomparable to his fingers and the one toy he doesn’t get to use often. Akechi hasn’t moved yet, but Akira’s not complaining, still getting used to the sensation and wrapping his head around the thought that _Goro Akechi’s cock is inside him._ He’s just catching his breath when he finally moves, setting a brutal and unrelenting pace (and once again, Akira counts his blessings that he managed to destroy the image of Akechi as a blushing virgin). 

Akechi folds him in half, his legs hooked over his shoulders as he snaps his hips into him. “Fuck! So tight,” he groans. “It’s like your body was made for me; truly my rival in every sense of the word.”

And  _ okay, this is getting into dangerous territory _ , Akira thinks. 

“I hate you so fucking much.”

_ That’s more like it. _ Akira clings to him, dizzy off of his words. “Akechi!  _ Ah! Fuck!  _ Please,” he begs, not knowing what he’s even begging for.

“God, do you _ ever _ — _ ngh _ ,  _ shut up? _ ” Akechi kisses him for the first time, rough and messy, uncaring that their teeth are clashing. He devours his mouth, swallowing every sound Akira lets slip loose. When they part for air, he pulls out and sits up. He readjusts his hold and spins him around so that Akira is reverse straddling him, then picks him up by the hips and slams him back down on his cock. 

The new angle has Akira arching his back, his moans turning into screams.  _ Fuck fuck fuck,  _ he’s  _ so close _ . “Please-! I’m— Ahh!  _ Akechi!  _ I’m close—Akechi please! Pleasepleaseplease,” Akira babbles uselessly.

“Please  _ what _ , Akira?” Akechi hisses as Akira’s nails dig into his thighs. “Do you want to cum?” He asks and has the nerve to laugh when Akira frantically nods his head. “Nothing’s stopping you.”

That’s great and all, but Akira wants—fuck, what does he even  _ want? _ A flood of thoughts, mostly incoherent, come to mind, but his loudest one screams for Akechi’s touch. “Touch me!”

To Akira’s utter despair, he stops moving. “You want my touch?” Akechi’s hand trails up his torso, stopping at one of his nipples to pinch. “Like this?” His other hand leaves Akira’s hip, wrapping around his throat. “Or like this?” He squeezes, eliciting a strangled sound from him. “Well?”

“Touch my cock! Make—  _ ah!  _ me cum, fuck me please I need—“ Akira gasps for air as Akechi tightens his grip before releasing him. 

“How I loathe the sound of your voice,” Akechi says as he pushes him onto his hands and knees, then shoves his face into the ground. He drives his cock in and out, reaching around to grab at Akira’s. It doesn’t take more than a few strokes for Akira to cum, calling out his name. Akechi drapes himself over his back, leaving small bites on his neck and grunting out profanities in between. He follows not too long after, hips stuttering as he empties himself within Akira. 

Akira is left panting, too fucked out of his mind to really register the sounds of clothes rustling after Akechi pulled out. He pushes himself up, trying not to grimace at the feeling of his ass leaking. By the time he’s on his feet again, Akechi is fully dressed, gun in hand. It’s sheer instincts that have him narrowly ducking out of fire.

_ What the fuck?! _ Akira thinks, then also says out loud, “Akechi, what the fuck?”

Akechi doesn’t answer, instead tracking his movements before pulling the trigger. Nothing happens. He pockets the gun with a sigh. “Unfortunate,” he says, then smiles his plastic tv smile with an added hint of smugness. “Well, that was enjoyable, I’m sure I’ll be seeing you again soon.”

He leaves while Akira recovers from the whiplash of that last exchange. He hates how right Akechi is, as he’s already planning his next excuse to come back tomorrow. 

**Author's Note:**

> You ever think about how sae is the only confidant who listens to akira? Also neither sae nor akira are aware of feral black mask akechi sadly, they’ve only heard him talk about the assassination plan.
> 
> This is my first time posting a pwp, but I just had to contribute to the top goro agenda! Hoping to post for top goro week but we'll see
> 
> I'm super shy but I'm on twitter [here](https://twitter.com/SpoooKyra)


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